


With me

by Haezel (Jimin)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimin/pseuds/Haezel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is going through one of his hallucinations and Hannibal does what he thinks might help. Kiss him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With me

**Author's Note:**

> first ever hannigram fic i wrote. this is set somewhere before the final three episodes.

There was something that made Hannibal impatient every time he was around Will. His palms would get sweaty and his heart would start beating rapidly. He couldn’t control himself all that well when Will was around, and he was slowly starting to fear that Will might notice the change of his attitude when he’s around.

“Hannibal?” Will asked and shook the psychiatrist by his shoulders. His eyes were wide and he feared Hannibal wasn’t as mentally sane as Will think he would be. “Are you alright?” There was a noticeable note of worry in Will’s voice that pulled Hannibal back to reality, but maybe it were Will’s eyes that stared at Hannibal’s, piercing right into his soul.

Blinking twice and shaking his head a little Hannibal gave the younger FBI agent a small nod and opened his eyes, only to meet Will’s face straight in his; an inch of space between them.

“Will..,” he breathed out and moved back, hitting the back of his chair quite harshly.

The air that surrounded the two all of a sudden became frosty and Will was sure he was hallucinating. Though Hannibal was still there, and he didn’t turn into Gareth Jacob Hobbs. He wondered why, maybe Hannibal was too good to become a cruel and cold murderer even if it was just Will’s mind.

Water started dripping down the sides of Hannibal’s office paintings and melted their sides into a colourless liquid. A picture of sea started to flow down the wall; it looked as if the sea itself has escaped the painting. Will was unable to move his eyes to anything else other than the water, but he could feel someone grip onto his forearms. The grip was strong, firm; it gave him some sense of reality, knowledge that someone he trusted was on the other side, waiting for him to come back, willing to help him.

Water soon filled the floor and all the paintings, bookshelves and sofas were melted away, except the one Will was crouching next to.

“Will,” Hannibal tried to pull the other make out of his trance but nothing worked, he was all too deep. “Will, I need you to hear me.”

Hannibal’s eyes were concerned. This might actually be the first time he cared about someone so much to get invested in them. His fingers gripped onto the silky skin of Will’s forearms, one slowly inching towards Will’s neck and face.

Will had his hands preached on the armrests of Hannibal’s chair. He gripped hard onto the leather of the chair and stared before him, almost at Hannibal, but more trough him, at the picture just above Hannibal’s shoulder.

The water that had filled the room now reached up to his shoulders and he could feel it slowly getting colder and colder, but something about this hallucination was different that the others; Will couldn’t move. His hands felt like they were glued onto the leather of the chair below him, and his feet felt like nailed onto the hard floor.

A shift in temperature got Will surprised and he yelped when colder and much denser water hit the back of his neck.

“Will, please.” Hannibal whispered and placed his hands on Will’s neck, bringing him closer. “I need you.”

There was something that sounded much like a wave approaching, a big one. Will’s mind started racing. He feared drowning most of all, he feared being alone in water and too weak to swim his way back up to the surface.

Hannibal was panicking, nothing like he was around anyone else. He managed to keep himself in place when slaughtering all those people, even when eating their juicy meat. But he couldn’t keep his composure right now because Will was hurting, and if Will was hurting he was too.

His fingers traced out Will’s neck, softly massaging it in all the right places, trying to distract him from the hallucination. “Please, Will,” he said and placed his forehead gently against Will’s, fingers found their way up to Will’s cheeks and rested there, “I can’t go on without you.”

But it didn’t help, on the contrary. Will’s breathing begun to fasten and his heart rate was already too fast for Hannibal to even count. Will was so warm, his skin burned tips of Hannibal’s long cold fingers.  

A dull hit, that’s what Will felt when Hannibal rested his head on his forehead. It didn’t hurt but it was there, ringing in his ears, loud and obnoxious. The wave he felt approaching was now even closer; half of his head was already submerged into icy cold water and Will was ready to give up.

But Hannibal wasn’t. There was still something he could do for the younger; something he could try.

Looking up at Will’s empty eyes he gave himself a nod and leaned in. He slowly inched closer and closer to Will’s face, breath hitched in the back of his throat.

When their lips connected Hannibal felt all of his worries wash away, he felt all the guilt he felt for murdering people slip away. And he felt Will’s lips move against his.

The wave that Will feared had hit him harder than he expected. His whole body felt like it was struck by electricity; though his lips were the ones that seemed to _suffer_  the most. He felt something wet against them; even in all that water around him he felt something press onto them and pry them open. He allowed it, he didn’t know anything else than to allow it.

And the sensation had made Will’s mind shift. The water he was all too afraid slipped down the sides of his body and back up the wall into the painting. Will felt his whole body take in what his lips had pressed against them.  He took the comfort of the other’s body into himself and leaned into the kiss, all too willing for more.

Soft and warm, and gentle, that is how Will would describe Hannibal’s lips. He would love to have them over his own more, actually. They gave him some kind of comfort he craved for from Alana, but they were so much better than hers.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured against Will’s lips and gently rubbed the latter’s cheeks, “are you with me?”

Smile creped its way onto Will’s lips as he pressed them against Hannibal’s once again.

“Yes,” he said into the kiss and allowed the tip of his tongue to lick the top of Hannibal’s bottom lip. “I’m with you.”

When their lips parted his eyes shifted onto the painting on the wall. Smile creped onto his lips just as a foreign pair of hands sneaked around his waist.

 


End file.
